For the Love of a Bennet
by elizabethann.west.7
Summary: All Go to Brighton Jane Austen Challenge Book. What if Elizabeth insisted on going to Brighton with Lydia? She can't change the course of plans between Lydia and Wickham, but an old friend is there to help join the chase! -Regency, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Georgiana. Stand alone novel.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This will be a stand-alone novel that is part of the "All Go to Brighton" Jane Austen challenge. A group of authors and I this year decided to all write stories centered around the Brighton part of Pride & Prejudice. My story will be exciting, romantic, adventurous, and highly comical. I hope you enjoy! -Elizabeth Ann West_

*****

_From Volume II, Chapter XVIII of Pride and Prejudice _

"_Already arisen?" repeated Mr. Bennet. "What, has she frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia's folly."_

…

_"Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for having a couple of— or I may say, three— very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life."_

_With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry..._

Chapter One

_Squeamish youths! If only he knew he was speaking of Mr. Darcy! _Elizabeth Bennet held her anger from her failed entreaty to her father until she reached her shared bedroom with her sister Jane. Mindful not to slam the door, she offered no such relief to the drawer of her small desk where they kept writing supplies. She jerked the knob with such vigor, the contents slid violently against the front panel, and she huffed.

_We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton._ Again, her father's dismissive words swirled in her mind and Elizabeth closed her eyes. Instinctively, her plan had begun to form the moment she reached for her quill and ink. And now, the details solidified in her consciousness.

Her father would just have to abide an abundance of peace! She would go with Lydia to Brighton, only she had to write her aunt and share her plans.

As she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, her heart pained for a moment at the disappointment she was to pen. Her aunt and uncle had counted on her presence for their trip to the Lake District this summer, and with only a few weeks' notice, she was to dash their hopes.

_My Dearest Aunt and Uncle Gardiner,_

_I hope this letter finds you both well and in good spirits. I am to relate news to you that I am afraid you shall find unpleasant, but I believe you will agree with me such a measure must be taken. My father has agreed for Lydia to accept the invitation of Colonel Forster's wife to Brighton without the protection of a chaperone or sister. I appealed to his good senses; stressing that Lydis's behavior, lack of maturity, and easy manners with more than a few soldiers in the regiment make her a poor candidate for such an adventure._

_None of my arguments persuaded him. He is convinced my sister, and our collective reputations, are safe from unscrupulous suitors and soldiers. I might be convinced if I did not hold in my possession on good authority that one soldier in particular deviates from gentlemanlike behavior. While I cannot pen his name for fear of this letter falling into the wrong hands, you may recall me asking your memories of a man from your home county. _

_Perhaps my sister's lack of fortune and connections shall make her immune from his nefarious aims, but should it not, and I was aware of the risk, I would regret my lack of pluck. And so I write to you begging your forgiveness, but pleading your understanding, that I am declining your most generous invitation to travel this summer. Instead, I shall take myself to Brighton, endure Lydia's antics, and play politely with the regimental society. _

"Lizzie, there you are! I thought you were speaking with Papa," Jane interrupted her sister's letter writing. Elizabeth spun around in her chair and the redness of her cheeks gave Jane pause.

"He won't listen to reason!" she yelled, infuriated. As her father's words had stung her heart, words of another man were suddenly fresh in her mind. In Kent, just three months past, Mr. Darcy had unkindly laid out her family's shortcomings, even listing her father as a participant in the ridiculous behavior. If Mr. Darcy could see her now, he would feel quite vindicated.

"Who? Papa?"

Elizabeth nodded. Tears of frustration began to fall mixed with a sudden melancholy in her heart. Stupidly, part of her had thought if she went to the Lake District with her aunt and uncle, there might be a reason to stop in Aunt Gardiner's home county of Derbyshire. Elizabeth could never call upon Mr. Darcy at his home, not after spurning his affections, but stranger things did . . . Determined to stop her flight of fancy before it spiraled out of control, Elizabeth explained to Jane.

"Lydia is a flirt. Unchecked, she will ruin us all."

Jane calmly sat down on the edge of their bed. Ever the peacemaker, she attempted to soften Elizabeth's harsh critique of their youngest sister.

"She is spirited. And with the right guidance—"

"He means to send her alone!" Elizabeth interjected and Jane gasped. Spying an ally, Elizabeth pressed her case. "See? Even you agree. So I am writing to our aunt and uncle and turning down their invitation—"

"But you were so looking forward to going!"

Elizabeth shrugged, purposely ignoring the nagging tugs of pain on her heart. "It is no matter. I shall go to Brighton, and you can go to the Lake District."

Jane shook her head and leaned back away from her commanding sister. "Please, no, I am done travelling. Send Kitty. Or Mary."

"Jane, he is not going to come back," Elizabeth said softly, and both girls suddenly remained quiet. Only they knew the private details of each other's dealings with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.

"Write your letter and tell them to write back to me," Jane said, diplomatically. "But I do not wish to travel, I am tired. But if they invite me, I shall go and fill your place, for their sake."

After Jane left, and Elizabeth trusted her to continue to make excuses for her downstairs as she finished her letter, she considered her eldest sister's words. Kitty had been the most upset by Lydia's invitation, but Mary was the next in line by precedence.

Suddenly, inspiration sparked and she dipped her pen once more into the ink.

_I humbly suggest you send an invitation to both my sisters Mary and Catherine as my replacement. Mary's quiet will help soothe the children and Kitty's lack of travel will provide the sense of marvel you so enjoy when you've introduced Jane and me to new experiences. _

_I dearly wish I was able to go with you this summer, but I shall put on my bravest face and follow Lydia to Brighton. If uncle agrees with my aims, perhaps he could send a letter to my father in support of the scheme. I am afraid my mother may not like that I am spoiling the fun of her youngest daughter, but I truly feel I must protect my family._

_Your Loving Niece,_

_Elizabeth Grace Bennet _

Finished with one letter, she set it aside to dry and began to pen another. This one was to Colonel Forster and his wife, from the perspective of her father. In this missive, she wrote that he was grateful for the invitation of his youngest daughter, but added the stipulation that for her to accept such favor, one of her sisters must accompany her. Elizabeth listed her name and finally began to breathe more easily.

She would never win the affections of Mr. Darcy again, but she could aspire to raise her family above his censor. Though it pained her to accept her family's shortcomings, she felt relieved that she possessed a small amount of power to remedy them.

When at last she felt the letters were dry, she collected them to confront her father. If he did not accept her plan to keep their family from ruin, she would have to tell her mother what truly happened between Jane and Mr. Bingley from Mr. Darcy's interference. In her she could count on an ally even if her father remained unmoved.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This story is going to be such a rollicking good time! I cannot wait to write it down and share it with all of you... -Elizabeth Ann West_

*****

"Must you go? You and Brother just arrived!" Georgiana Darcy reacted poorly to the news of her cousin, and guardian, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam accepting a temporary duty assignment to Brighton. For a week she enjoyed almost the exclusive attention of the two men. Both had brought her back gifts from their travels to see their aunt in Kent. Richard had bestowed her with new sheet music. And her brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy, an original charm for her bracelet that was a custom of the D'Arcy family from as far back as anyone could remember. Once she married, her bracelet would be put away for her daughters, but while she remained a maiden, she loved collecting the small trinkets that jingled when she shook her wrist.

"You would not miss me so much if you had come with us to Rosings," Richard pointed out, before lifting his small wine glass and draining the red contents in a single swallow. A footman stepped forward to refill the delicate stemware in a silent choreography of service as Richard trimmed off a dark bit of crust on his slice of pheasant pie. He looked over at Mr. Darcy, the owner of the townhome he preferred over his parents' when he stayed in London, but Fitzwilliam Darcy ignored the conversation around him. His melancholy since Rosings had yet to lift, and only Richard was privy to the full details of his cousin's rejection by Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Conspiratorially, he caught Georgiana's eye as she, too, looked at her brother for support of her position, only to also be ignored. She sighed, and Richard winked. Then Georgiana brightened and sat up in her chair.

"I was remiss in rejecting the invitation to Rosings, but is there an invitation to come to Brighton?" she asked innocently and tried her best to keep her hopes in check.

Richard mulled his charge's request as he tried a forkful of pie. To his dismay, the filling inside was quite dry, matching the overcooked pastry shell. To avoid coughing, he again reached for his red wine, as he did not care for white, and downed the contents. With food this poor, a condition his cousin Mr. Darcy would never have abided before, he would find himself in his cups far earlier than planned. Richard put his fork down and prayed the next course held not the issues plaguing the first.

"A family excursion, on the back of my orders?" He explored her aims and she nodded enthusiastically.

"We might see the king! Pardon me, the Prince Regent!" she continued, and Richard nodded slowly.

Brighton was a playground for the dandiest of dandies in London, a side-effect of the Prince Regent and his illegitimate wife, Maria Fitzherbert making the seaside town their home away from court. Richard waited for Darcy to chime in at some point and put the scheme off, but he received no such aid. Georgiana pounced on his weaker position.

"Brother, wouldn't you love such a trip?" she asked, slyly, and looking directly at her elder brother. Fitzwilliam Darcy was too embarrassed to confess he had not been attending to the conversation.

"A trip? Yes, you know how I hate London," Mr. Darcy added, vaguely pushing his meat pie around on his plate.

Richard frowned, then remembered his wine. "You wish to go to the beach, eh there, Darcy?" Richard watched as Georgiana held her breath.

"The shore? Heavens no, full of smugglers, vagrants, and the unprincipled."

"But you just said yes!" Georgiana pouted. "Richard must go to Brighton, and I so dearly wish for us to go with him!"

Fitzwilliam Darcy blinked a few times as he took in his suddenly demanding sister. She had always been so pliable, reasonable, even. He would have to speak to Mrs. Annesley about Georgiana's conversation skills when he next took an interview with her companion. Unfortunately, Mrs. Annesley's sister had fallen unwell, and so Georgiana's care was left to her brother and cousin, though to Mr. Darcy's perspective, Richard was running off for army diversions, and leaving him with a sixteen-year-old woman who knew too much of her own mind.

"Perhaps a compromise can be struck. Hmm?" Richard tested as neither man ever denied Georgiana a desire they could deliver. Both pitied the young woman as though she were still the lamentable orphan she was at eleven.

Georgiana stuck out her lower lip just enough to appear sympathetic as she waited for her cousin's proposal.

"Why don't I leave first and make arrangements for the two of you? Should take no more than a week or two and then you can join me?" Richard enjoyed Darcy's scowl. At first, he had not been keen on the idea of his cousins tagging along, but on second thought, their company would spare him some of the most annoying social events such a large camp of officers attracted. He was going to relieve a disgraced Colonel who had lined his own pockets with monies for the cavalry units in Brighton. While Richard was never one to turn up his nose at many of the benefits of being such a senior officer in His Majesty's Finest, he abhorred outright theft. He detested even more that punishment for such irregular books was a reassignment for the guilty, and extra work for the innocent to bring the battalion back in line on an economy of resources.

"But why can't we just all go together? Surely it cannot be too difficult to make travel arrangements for a seaside town?" Georgiana asked, impertinently.

Darcy coughed, and Richard squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"Georgie, your cousin, is not taking a holiday, he is going for the needs and necessity of the army."

"Quite right."

"And for us to tag along with him as he arrives for duty is unseemly," Mr. Darcy finished.

Georgiana furrowed her brow in thought. "But if we arrive later, then it is just one big happy coincidence that our family chose to holiday in the same location our cousin was stationed." She placed her pointer finger to her lips as though the scheme were a grand secret. The two men laughed at her childish antics. Feeling bold, Georgiana pushed a point about her brother.

"And you will finally stop being so sad all the time!" she said, directing her words towards her brother.

"I am not sad," Mr. Darcy countered.

"He is disappointed," Richard offered.

Georgiana watched the two men spar with words like a great tennis match.

"Richard," Darcy said with a tone of warning in his voice.

"Our aunt was especially stern that Darcy cease sowing his wild oats and settle down to marry her daughter," Richard finished, not entirely lying, but not telling the truth, either.

Georgiana gasped.

"See? You speak too coarsely, Cousin," Darcy's sadness had turned to outright anger.

"But Brother never goes out! Aunt has it wrong; he doesn't marry our cousin because he loves another," Georgiana said, to the amazement of those at the table.

Mr. Darcy looked pained as three of his footmen stood in service for the table and pretended to not have an interest in the conversation. He would not suffer such disclosure in front of the staff of his own home. Quickly, he motioned for the meal to be ended, after just one terrible course, and suggested they retire to the drawing-room.

"Only if your staff will bring a tray of cold meats and cheese. I'm afraid I couldn't digest anything cooked this evening," Richard demanded.

When at last they were in the drawing-room, Darcy had hoped to change the conversation back to Brighton, but his sister would not oblige. Nor would Richard.

"So tell me, young one, why are so confident your brother loves another?" Richard asked as he made a big show of leading Georgiana to the divan settled in front of the dormant fireplace. With it being the height of summer, there was no need for its purpose.

"Well, in his letters to me he frequently spoke about a young woman named Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Georgiana began thoughtfully, and Richard made a face of a mock surprise to his cousin. Darcy groaned and walked over to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. He would not offer any spirits to the two against him in the room, on principle.

"A Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you say?" Richard asked, and Georgiana nodded.

"Yes, they met when he was with Mr. Bingley in Hertfordshire. According to Brother, Miss Elizabeth loves to read and take walks. And he saw her again at Rosings! Did you?" Georgiana asked, earnestly, and Richard laughed.

"My, your brother has been rather transparent, hasn't he?" Richard asked, and Georgiana blinked feeling slightly confused.

"Don't you dare-" Mr. Darcy started, but Richard cut him off.

"You're the one writing about your lady to your sister. Would you prefer her to know the truth and guess the truth and meddle?" Richard asked, and again, Darcy groaned.

"What happened? Is Miss Elizabeth unwell?" Georgiana began to worry as there was not obviously something both men knew that they were not telling her.

Mr. Darcy pressed his hands into the sideboard and hunkered over the drink, speaking without facing either of them.

"Your brother is a fool, Georgie. I insulted Miss Elizabeth most egregiously, and I'm afraid she will never wish to speak to me again," Mr. Darcy explained. Georgiana rose to comfort her brother with a gentle pat on his shoulder blade.

"You must apologize, Brother. That is all, we all speak out of turn at times," Georgiana encouraged her brother as Richard howled with laughter from the divan.

"Oh, he is weaving a pretty story, there. He insulted her and her family, and her favorite sister," Richard counted off the insults upon his fingers, "as he asked her to marry him!" he exclaimed as he finished off the coup d'etat.

Darcy growled in his shame as Georgiana felt him tense under her hand.

"Oh no!" she cried, and Darcy turned around, his expression a mixture of shock and sadness.

"I did," he confessed quietly.

For a few moments, not a word was said as a tray of cold meats and cheeses, plus bread was stationed on the large table between the sofas. Mr. Darcy led his sister back over to the sofas, and she tugged on his arm so that he sat next to her, offering comfort to his mortification.

"No one can know, Georgie," he began, and she nodded.

"Of course not," she replied.

As Richard helped himself to the second, more palatable supper, Georgiana slightly lifted from her seat to twist in angle more towards her brother instead of perpendicular to the table.

"We must go to Brighton, then. We must. The sea air will lift your spirits, and we shall figure out what to do about Miss Elizabeth," Georgiana proclaimed while her brother shook his head.

"We shall go to Brighton, but please do not ever mention Miss Elizabeth to me again. I have shared with you so that you would not meddle, and I must insist upon that. The mistakes I made in her quarter are too grave for an apology. And I must ask that you respect this," Mr. Darcy said. Reluctantly, his sister agreed.

Richard helped himself to the strong spirits from the sideboard and brought a small glass of brandy for Georgiana. As Darcy already had his drink, Ricahrd raised his in a toast.

"Then we shall all go to Brighton!"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Writing like the wind this week! All thanks to your reviews and comments. Thank you so much! Also, chapters of An Autumn Accord are posting on my site. - Elizabeth Ann West

The two gowns laid upon the bed paused Elizabeth Bennet in her activity of packing. One, a fresh lavender with hints of gray, would be very light and airy for the trip to Brighton, but she already had a similar frock in her trunk. The other, a pale pink, was the color Lydia so often wore, and she liked to dictate to her sisters they wear other hues so as not to compete with her. Elizabeth could hear Lydia's voice in her head if she pulled out the pink gown to wear for some dinner or stroll in Brighton.

"La, I do not know why you bother, pink goes so much better with my complexion," Lydia would say.

Elizabeth sighed and wished she had been blessed with dark eyes like Lydia. Instead, she and Jane were blessed with lighter eyes like their father, which was all very good for Jane as she also was blessed with lighter hair. No, there were few colors that didn't look fetching on Jane or Lydia, but Elizabeth was stuck with choosing between pale blues, greens, and purples. Pinks and yellows made her look sallow.

"Lizzy! Aren't you finished already?" Lydia burst into the room, with Kitty chasing her.

"Give it back! I said you couldn't take it!" Kitty yelled, and the two girls ran around Elizabeth until she felt quite dizzy. Spying a hairbrush in Lydia's hand, Elizabeth stuck out her foot and tripped her youngest sister to fall upon the bed, directly across the two gowns she had been choosing between.

Kitty pounced upon Lydia, who now moved her hands up and down, forward and back, struggling to keep the brush out of Kitty's reach.

"It's mine! You can't take it!"

"You won't need it!" Lydia huffed as Elizabeth stepped into the fray and wrenched the brush out of Lydia's hands.

"You are mistaken. Kitty will need her travel brush and combs. Where are yours?" Elizabeth asked Lydia who remained in a huff on the bed, while Kitty reached for the brush from Elizabeth. She gladly handed it over.

"She does NOT need it! She won't be going anywhere!" Lydia cried, and Elizabeth watched Kitty grow frustrated at the same nastiness Lydia threw in Kitty's face every other day since her invitation to Brighton as the guest of Mrs. Harriet Forster, the wife of the militia colonel.

Elizabeth placed an arm around the visibly upset Kitty, and ushered towards her writing desk. Carefully, she pulled out a letter she had received from her Aunt Gardiner that had been tucked into her own response from a letter she had written last week. It was addressed to Kitty and Mary.

Kitty's eyes lit up as she looked to Elizabeth before opening the letter. Elizabeth nodded and began to explain.

"Since I am going to Brighton, there is a need for a Bennet girl to take a trip with our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner," Elizabeth said as Lydia sulked. Realizing the fun would not be about her, Lydia stood up and snatched the pink gown that had been laying across the quilt. "It will be too long for you!" Elizabeth called out as Lydia left the room.

"I'll have Betsy hem it!" Lydia yelled in reply, and Elizabeth sighed. She had planned to give the pink frock to Lydia as it was only gently worn and she had decided on two lavender gowns being more than suitable so long as she did not wear them on consecutive days.

"She is terrible," Kitty said and Elizabeth laughed.

"The absolute worst! And I have to travel days in a carriage with her!" Elizabeth laughed at her own horrible fate and urged Kitty to open the letter.

_Dearest Kitty and Mary,_

_I hope you will not take offense to this offer as we should have loved to invite all of you girls on our trip to the Lake District this summer. Sadly, we could not offer such invitations and blame our focus on Jane and Elizabeth as the two eldest Bennet daughters to their precedence of age, not pleasantness of company. Therefore, we hope you will accept that we now invite you both to accompany us as we plan to travel as far as Keswick. On the way, we plan to stop at the famous Tintern Abbey, in Monmouthshire, to behold the ruins of what was once such an impressive edifice to our Lord. I have sent a copy of Wordsworth's Poems in Two Volumes so that you might acquaint yourselves with the descriptive language of the area. Lizzy can lend you her travel guide that was a Christmas gift from us._

_We hope such a change in plans this summer is amenable and we shall visit Longbourn within the fortnight to collect you both. Your father and mother have already agreed and you will visit the shops in Meryton with your mother to add any items for your wardrobes. We expect to return in late August, perhaps early September, as your uncle cannot afford to be gone from his businesses for very long. I am happy that the opportunity for Brighton arrived for two of your sisters, and our trip to the Lakes is open to you both. This summer, the Bennet sisters shall stretch nearly the length of the country in their travels, and I cannot claim the season should be anything else for you all, each and every year._

_Do plan on bringing your adventurous spirits and best walking boots as we shall hike and explore many heights. Perhaps Lizzy was the most acclimated for a trip such as this, but your uncle and I hold little doubt that the next two Bennet daughters won't rise to the occasion. _

_With All of my Love,_

_Madeline Gardiner_

"Your travel book? But you have treasured that book since you received it!" Kitty said jubilantly and Elizabeth shrugged. She fetched the book from her bedside table where she had placed it after removing it from her trunk.

"Only because I thought I should travel north this summer, but it is yours," she said as she pressed the book to Kitty's chest, who happily accepted the tome.

"But what about Jane!"

Wistfully, Elizabeth looked at the bed she shared with their eldest sister. Between the two trips, only Jane would be left out.

"Someone must stay behind with Mama and Papa," Elizabeth explained, taking care to not confess that Jane did not wish to travel any further this year after her disappointment with Mr. Bingley.

Kitty nodded at such a declaration. "True. And the four of us have been left behind many times. Well, often the three of us, you do travel most often with Jane," Kitty said, as she described the Longbourn household for the last couple of years. Only Jane and Lizzy had been allowed to go off on some trip together, never Kitty and Mary. And Lydia had almost skipped a trip with a sister altogether, until Elizabeth insisted on going to Brighton as well. Kitty sighed and Elizabeth added another sprig of rosemary to her lavender gown before packing it away into her trunk.

"Lizzy?" Kitty began, gathering her sister's attention away from the last of her preparations for Brighton. Nearly all of the officers and Aunt and Uncle Phillips were to dine at Longbourn. Lydia and Elizabeth would go home with the Forsters, where they were staying at the Phillipses, to leave early in the morning when the militia decamped.

"Oh please do not fuss about not going to Brighton! The Lake District is equally diverting," Elizabeth began to scold Kitty, but her sister shook her head.

"No, I am not ungrateful. Mary and I shall love traveling with the Gardiners," Kitty approached her sister until they were standing so close Elizabeth might have leaned forward and pecked Kitty on the nose. She also realized her younger sister would soon catch her in height in less than a year's time.

Slightly uncomfortable in their closeness, Elizabeth took a step back. When she did, Kitty leaned forward and began to whisper.

"Keep your eyes on Lydia. Watch her closely. I try and she never listens to me."

Before Elizabeth could ask for clarity on such a cryptic statement, Kitty flounced from the room calling for Mary to share the good news. Their mother was calling for all of the girls from below stairs, and Elizabeth blew out a breath as she was now late in finishing her packing. Tucking the gown, plucking some books, and scavenging for her travel writing case under her bed, where the dust made her sneeze, she finished her trunk just as the footman arrived to take it downstairs before their guests arrived.

One last look in the mirror before going down for dinner, she spied a grayish mark on her cheek from retrieving her writing case. She used the cold water in the basin to wipe it off and almost left with her white apron still tied over her gown. Laughing at her silliness, Elizabeth untied the back and lifted the neck ring over her head. She placed the apron in the pile of laundry for the maid, and swished her pale blue gown for good measure against any dust from her packing.

Tonight would be her last in Meryton for months, and she did not wish to leave her home looking anything less than her best.

"Lizzy, are you coming? Aunt, Uncle, and the Forsters have just arrived!" Jane said as she had been sent to fetch her sister for the night's society.

Elizabeth gave Jane a hug that knocked the breath out of her sister and squeezed as tightly as she could.

"I shall miss you," she said as Jane repeated the same.

"You cannot be nervous, it was you who insisted on such a scheme," Jane said, as Lizzy grasped her hand to walk down stairs as a pair.

"Never nervous, just anxious all the same."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Oh the mortification of one's family behaving exactly as the man you thought was your enemy described them...and now you can't help wondering how wrong you had it all... :) I LOVE writing JAFF :) - Elizabeth Ann West

********

Below stairs, Longbourn proved quite busy as the Forsters and Phillips arrived, along with a few officers from the regiment. To Elizabeth's dismay, as she and Jane reached the last step, they stood before none other than Mr. Wickham offering them a dazzling smile. Lydia tugged on his arm before a proper greeting could be made, sparing Elizabeth the need to play falsely.

"Come this way," Lydia pleaded, "we are playing charades until dinner is announced." She giggled and Mr. Wickham gave Jane and Elizabeth a small bow before disappearing into the din. As Elizabeth took the last step, Jane blocked her.

"I am well," Elizabeth said, as her agitation with the man had mostly passed. Any agitations of partiality had long left her sensibilities when she had returned from Kent and could view Mr. Wickham's behavior in a new light. Now, she only struggled to keep the agitation of knowing Mr. Wickham was a complete cad under good regulation.

"Is this why you insisted on going with Lydia?" a voice behind them asked and the two girls turned to see their Papa. They both expected him to comment on Lydia's behavior, but instead the man of two score and five, thought he had seen something else. "I didn't take you as one to chase a red coat, Lizzy," he commented, as he glided past them to make his presence known to their guests.

Elizabeth grew angry and Jane placed a reassuring hand on her forearm.

"You know how father loves to tease us over our beaus," she warned.

"He is not my beau," Elizabeth said under her breath, as the laughter and shouts from the drawing room drifted into the foyer. If Elizabeth knew her mother, she had likely told the kitchens to delay supper. And this gave her an idea. "You go on without me, I will be right there."

"Lizzy," Jane warned, thinking her sister's absence would prove to their father he was correct in his estimation that he had somehow unsettled his favorite daughter.

But Elizabeth dashed off, through the back hall, past the dining room, and into the kitchens. Cook was yelling commands at a poor kitchen maid cutting pastry for one of the later courses and spied Lizzy near the door. She winked at the Bennet daughter that often stole out the back through her kitchens for a daily ramble, snagging any baked goods conveniently left out for her perusal.

"Miss Lizzy," the Cook addressed the young miss of the household.

"The plans to delay dinner have changed, my mother sent me," Elizabeth started, and to her satisfaction, she had predicted the evening correctly.

"Changed? I do not know why I tolerate such treatment! You there, boy, move that roast back onto the fire! Hurry girl, stop your tears, the pies won't cut themselves," the Cook began yelling at the lowest servants in the household out of frustration. Elizabeth offered the young kitchen maid a look of sympathy when the tear-streaked face met hers as she backed away to the door.

"So how long until the announcement?" Elizabeth asked gingerly, not wishing to bring the Cook's ire down upon herself.

"Tell the Missus I shall have the table set before the quarter hour," Cook bellowed, as she began tasting things and giving more orders to her staff.

Elizabeth winced as she left the kitchen, feeling slightly guilty that her mother might become very cross when she later learned that Elizabeth had interfered with her carefully planned dinner. But if such a feat spared her even twenty minutes in the drawing room and hastened the end of the evening that much sooner, Elizabeth could spare the consequences. After all, by the time her mother could find time to scold her, Elizabeth would be gone on her way to the Forsters!

When Elizabeth rejoined the drawing room, she nodded at Jane, who gasped in shock. She had not believed Elizabeth when she had first warned of their mother's antics to prolong their time with their odious cousin Mr. Collins, specifically Elizabeth's time with Mr. Collins. But Jane always did see the best in people, and even though she would now believe her sister, she would still not see anything but the best, and not mercenary intentions, in their mother. Sometimes, Elizabeth wished she could be more like Jane. But it was a challenge for her to see such positivity in others as she sighed and leaned against the doorway.

Lieutenant Denny noticed Elizabeth standing and gallantly offered his seat upon the sofa, while Lydia and Mr. Wickham were carrying on about a particular charade that alternated between an enormous beast of unknown origin and a tiny squeaking annoyance. Utterly bored, Elizabeth guessed it right away.

"Aesop's The Lion and the Mouse."

All activity ceased as Elizabeth had guessed correctly and Lydia crossed her arms in front of her.

"You ruined all the fun! Mr. Wickham, I think you were infinitely more agreeable as a mighty lion," she said, batting her eyelashes as she sought his attention. Unfortunately, Mr. Wickham was watching Miss Elizabeth's face for her reaction to his compliment on her cleverness.

Saving Elizabeth from having to respond, Hill entered the drawing room to signal to Mrs. Bennet that dinner was ready.

"Are you certain? My, that is so well of Cook," Mrs. Bennet recovered quickly, fanning herself as she addressed the Forsters. "It must be so difficult to travel as much as you do, living house to house. You never can rely on good help, but we are blessed with a very punctual Cook. I had told her I wanted dinner served not a minute past six, and there, you see the bells are yet to chime," Mrs. Bennet boasted.

"We'd do quite well to have her proficiency in the Army!" Colonel Forster said, just as the clock began to strike the hour.

The assembled party began to partner off with Mr. Bennet escorting Mrs. Bennet, followed by the Colonel and his wife, the Phillipses, and in the absence of Captain Carter, Lieutenant Denny held the prestige of escorting Miss Bennet.

"I believe I am to be your escort," Lieutenant Wickham gallantly offered his arm to Elizabeth as she rolled her eyes. Chamberlayne and Pratt escorted Mary and Kitty, respectively, and Lydia, without an escort, cheekily took Mr. Wickham's other arm.

"Since we're both going to Brighton, you shall have to just sit between us Mr. Wickham," Lydia pronounced as her delaying their entry into the dining room caused those exact seats to be all that was left. Thankfully, Elizabeth would sit next to her father at the head of the table with Mr. Wickham next to her, and her Uncle Phillips across from her next to Jane and Lieutenant Denny.

She managed to get through the first course without saying a word to Mr. Wickham, until her father, during the second course of mince pies and mottled veal in burnt cream sitting prominently on their side of the table, brought up how he was so sad to lose Elizabeth so soon after her return.

"But I understood Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were lately to London, not too far a distance, I don't think," Mr. Wickham commented.

"My Jane remained in London, but Lizzy travelled further on, spending three weeks with her cousin in Kent. An estate called Rosings, I believe." Mr. Bennet watched most interested as Mr. Wickham choked on his mince pie and Lydia fussed over his person. Once he recovered, Mr. Wickham was not clever enough to realize Mr. Bennet set up conversations only for his own amusement.

"And how did you pass your time at Rosings? Very pleasantly, I hope?" he asked, despite Lydia's attempts to speak to him about the gowns she had packed for Brighton.

"Very well, as I was pleased Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, were in residence visiting their aunt. We dined at Rosings a number of times and I found the company, as well as the countryside in Kent, well to my liking," Elizabeth said to both nettle her father and Mr. Wickham. She had all but lost her appetite but conditioned herself to breathe and remember to be serene like Jane.

Her plan worked as Mr. Wickham engaged Lydia for the next topic of conversation, this time about card games they could all play in Brighton that were much the same they had been playing in Aunt Phillips' parlor. Defiantly, Elizabeth served herself a slice of French Pie, flavored with some of the last of the elderberry wine until the new year's crop was processed, an extravagance put on by her mother. Loading her fork with the sweetly-filled pie brought a sour feeling to her stomach. Her family was not poor so much as mismanaged; Mr. Darcy had been completely correct that her father was complicit in her lower station.

As though he could read her mind that she was thinking about Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham brought up the man again.

"How long did you say that Mr. Darcy was at Rosings?''

Elizabeth gulped. "Nearly three weeks.'' She picked up her glass of wine, and immediately regretted washing down the sweetness with more sweet.

"And you saw him frequently?''

Her hand shook, nearly spilling her wine upon the table cloth. "Yes, almost every day.''

At this admission, her father ceased cutting his meat and looked pointedly at his daughter, but said nothing.

Mr. Wickham, upon spying Mr. Bennet's behavior, tried to move the conversation away from such an intrusive slant. But he could only come up with a lame observation of the two men not present for the dinner, and one acquaintance of only himself and Miss Elizabeth. "His manners are very different from his cousin's.''

Waiting for her father to start a conversation with her Uncle Phillips to his left, Elizabeth finally answered low enough that only Mr. Wickham comprehended all of her words.

"Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.'' She drained her glass of wine and listened to her mother and Aunt Phillips cackle at the other end of the table with Colonel Forster. He was closer in age to those two women than his poor, young wife Harriet, who struggled to command the same respect of a married woman being the most junior in the position.

When at last the servants cleared the dishes, and the dining room became a cacophony of chaos, Mr. Wickham waited for Lydia to be engaged in teasing poor Chamberlayne for the pranks they played the previous week. After overcoming his embarrassment that he tried to ply Lizzy with an earful of poison against Mr. Darcy.

"You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. . ." He jumbled his words so quickly that Elizabeth could scarcely comprehend their meaning, not that she felt much incentive to do so. It was only when he mentioned Mr. Darcy's aunt and the match to Miss De Bourgh, that Elizabeth's heart felt a stab of jealousy.

Then she quickly remembered that Mr. Darcy had proposed to her, and if such a match existed she could scarcely believe that Mr. Darcy's pride and character could ever allow him to jilt such a young innocent as Miss De Bourgh. At this, Elizabeth could not repress her smile.

"Peace, Mr. Wickham, you have monopolized my Lizzy long enough. You shall see her at your leisure, I'm sure, in Brighton, but for now I must insist upon her company," Mr. Bennet said, separating the two he had earlier in the evening believed to be a crossed couple in love.

When Mr. Wickham obliged, Elizabeth turned to her father and despite her earlier anger with him, thanked him for his rescue.

"Oh, do not thank me, child. I fear that you may know more about the man than I," he ventured, and recognized Elizabeth's stony expression as one of great discretion, so he changed his tack. "Go, your mother and other sisters I am sure have much caterwauling and farewells to grace you and Lydia with, and I suspect the Colonel will not wish to tarry long."

Elizabeth nodded and left the men in the dining room as she joined the ladies in the drawing room. Her mother sat in high dudgeon upon the sofa, already allowing her tears of motherly desertion to flow freely down her cheeks. She was consoled by Aunt Phillips as Lydia and Mrs. Forster spoke animatedly by the fireplace.

But from Mary, Kitty, and especially Jane, Elizabeth was embraced, wished well, and the sisters exchanged expressions of how much they would miss each other. Both Lydia and Elizabeth promised to write, but even Jane knew only one of her sisters was likely to be a reliable correspondent. The other would be far to busy retrimming her bonnets and recounting her brushes with officers to put pen to parchment.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: The first book that published this summer in this challenge is called Mr. Darcy Goes to Brighton by Bella Breen. :) I believe you can find it in all major ebook stores and chapters on that author's website. - Elizabeth Ann West_

_***_

Arriving in Brighton courtesy of the speed and comfort of his family's money, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam steeled himself for a distinct diminishment in his lifestyle. The Major General Farrington had long been relieved of his post, and Richard's arrival would signal the end of loose ways and fast living. If for no other reason than to set an example to the young officers, he would not lead without a shred of credibility or rapport save the respect his medals commanded, he would become a man utterly foreign to his closest family members.

No sooner had his boots touched down in front of Russell House, did he begin to bark orders at the poor cadet standing at attention for his arrival.

"What is your name, sir?"

"Davies, sir. Cadet Davies!" The whelp barely old enough to carry a saddle squeaked as his voice cracked mid-sentence.

"And were you told to stand upon this spot, Cadet Davies?"

"Yes. Yes, sir," he quickly corrected himself.

"Ah, and by whom?" Colonel Fitzwilliam stood so close to Cadet Davies that sweat beaded upon the lad's forehead as he fretted over his answer.

"By me! And it's too damn early in the morning for all of this shouting!" A man leaned out of Russell House in a state of undress with his red coat unbuttoned halfway down.

Cadet Davies let out a sigh of relief as Colonel Fitzwilliam stood and waited for the mysterious soldier to come down the stairs and salute him properly. As Fitzwilliam stared the man down, the other officer tilted his head as if to question Richard's seriousness. When Richard stood still as a statue, the other man murmured some more curse words under his breath as he struggled to right his uniform and simultaneously stamp his left boot into proper position.

Finally, the man stood before Colonel Fitzwilliam and saluted. "Captain Shawcroft, sir. Permission to show you to your quarters, sir."

Hiding his smirk, Richard dismissed the sickly Cadet Davies, and when the boy showed promise by offering his limited strength to the coachman, Colonel Fitzwilliam followed the good Captain Shawcroft inside. Once there, Captain Shawcroft gave his superior's shoulder a good shove.

"What was that all about? Embarrassing me in front of my cadet," Captain Shawcroft waved his fingers at a few scantily dressed ladies in the parlor, a small cotillion remaining from the night before.

"How long did you make that lad stand out there?" Richard asked, as his eyes took in the utterly derelict breakdown in military discipline around him. Another officer, scarcely dressed with his roger dangling for the world to see, chased a giggling brunette towards the back of the house.

The house itself had long since lost the luster of the wealthy businessman who had built it, not even fit for a wayward prince on the outs with his father. Twenty years had not improved the decor, and the furnishings were particularly shabby. When not used as officer quarters, the house was likely one of ill-repute highly accepted in the hometown of the Prince Regent's dalliances with mistresses.

"It was good for him," Captain Shawcroft pronounced as he lit a cigar. "You were supposed to arrive next week," he scolded.

"I come when I am summoned. The Major General was quite insistent I come at my earliest convenience."

"And who do you think suggested your talents to the Major General?" Captain Shawcroft, heir to Baron Winmarleigh, expressed his displeasure that a friend from his childhood could be so dimwitted as to think his military skill brought him to the blessed assignment of soldiering by the seaside. "I pulled my charm, and wit, into making sure your name was summoned amongst the long list of lackeys vying for the position."

"But there's much to clean up, Farrington—"

"Was a great bore!" called a voice from down the hall, and Richard Fitzwilliam looked incredulously at his family friend from Derbyshire.

Captain Shawcroft shrugged, then loosened the top buttons on his coat again, shooing away a young woman trying to offer her company for a bit of coin. "We had to get rid of him."

Stunned that a company could frame an innocent man for their depraved distractions, Colonel Fitzwilliam suddenly felt rather in danger himself. Perhaps his initial supposition of the assignment was remiss, and he would be wise to listen to Captain Shawcroft's expectations of his new commander before expressing his unwillingness to cooperate.

"As I am grossly misinformed, perhaps you should explain to me my post." Colonel Fitzwilliam took the cigar from Shawcroft's mouth and invited the woman shunned to climb upon his lap as he took a seat in the largest chair in the makeshift parlor. Shawcroft grinned.

"It's simple really. In the afternoon we sport with the horses, yell at the men, and spend our evenings as we jolly-well please," he explained, pouring the colonel a drink.

Richard accepted the liquid courage as he endured the haphazard seduction of the young woman, not even remotely distracting his person. Still, he played along until he could remove them both to a bedroom and let the poor girl sleep.

"And there's no obstacle to your plan? I had heard Preston Barracks was to become a premier training ground, impress the Regent," he said, watching a shadow fall over Shawcroft's self-congratulatory smirk.

"A ragtag militia. But I'm certain you can convince their colonel to our way of thinking."

"Most assuredly, what's the unit?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked as he held the cigar in his lips and delicately traced the woman's exposed shoulder, making her shiver at his gentleness that contrasted so greatly with the rough grasps of the other men. "Give me the roster and I shall see if any of the names are those I can work upon," Richard said, in such a serious tone that Shawcroft didn't argue with him.

Quietly, Richard whispered to the young woman she would be safe with him, and when he motioned he was ready, for her to show him to the bedroom assigned to Shawcroft. She smiled, eager to be of use to someone, and performed obediently as Shawcroft reappeared with a roll of papers with official seals and markings. Richard snatched the intelligence and winked at his co-conspirator. Wiggling her hips as she walked, Richard took a long puff of the cigar as both men watched her saunter. Then he handed the habit over to its original owner.

"I find that I am rather fatigued after my journey," he remarked, downing his drink.

Thinking himself secure in a new ally, Captain Shawcroft raised the holler of celebration for their new commander, and was joined by the handful of men awakened from their drunken stupors. He ceased his cheers of jubilation for Colonel Fitzwilliam when he spied the woman leading him up to the best room of the house: his room. Captain Shawcroft dashed up the stairs to the laughter of many strewn about the hallways and landings, only to have the door slammed shut and locked before he could stop them.

Pounding on the door with a flat hand, he again cursed the man from his home county. But if the Colonel needed a rest from his troubles, then Captain Shawcroft could work on a more permanent arrangement for the new arrival. One that didn't require the sacrifice of his room.

Once safely behind a closed door, Richard asked the woman for her name.

"Angelica. They say I can be any man's angel," she said, beginning her customary performance for any new custom.

Richard pulled a few coins from his purse, resisting the urge to ask just how many men she had given her heavenly delights.

"Take these for your silence, and your boasts. If you will cry out for a few moments and then take your rest, I should hope we could be allies in this town."

"Are you frightened the good Captain will frame you for similar misdeeds as the last commander?" she asked, revealing she had been keen to listen to the men's earlier exchange.

Richard sighed. Whores, laundry maidens, and other servants were the bane of war. For any price, they were happy to tell a tale, share a plan, and too many in leadership ignored the problem. When a servant or lower class man or woman was invisible to the officer in charge, he or she was invisible as a threat.

"I am more careful than that, but fortune favors the cautious," he said, twisting the well known phrase for his circumstance.

"Fortis Fortuna juvat," she said, showing she knew the correct Latin phrase and Richard raised his eyebrows. "I was a governess."

Impressed, he began to ask her why she had left that profession, but she preempted his query.

"Men are fools. Especially fathers. And this pays more," she grinned as she held up the coins he had given her and added them to the small pockets sewn along the hem of her revealing gown. She began to moan and jump on the bed so the wood slats creaked, and Richard grunted to keep from laughing.

_Men are fools, indeed, _he thought, as he opened the marked letters and orders to find out how much of a fool he had been. Yes, receiving the summons to Brighton had been a stroke of pride to his ego, but he had no inclination to be a puppet for Shawcroft.

As he read through the missives, and finally the angel in the room quieted her performance, Richard found the muster list of Colonel Forster's outfit. Finding a name he dreaded, on top of the disappointing situation already facing him, his attention was drawn to the list of lieutenants.

_Second Lieutenant George R. Wickham_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I can feel the dust of the road on my skin still after writing this chapter... *cough cough* I would NOT want to travel with a milita caravan. - Elizabeth Ann West_

After three days at the glacial pace of ten miles per day, Lydia's patience had long worn out, and Elizabeth's was becoming very thin. Lydia behaved particularly sour because the regiment, traveling by carriage, wagons, and by foot, would not remain in London proper, but marched around the grand city. While Elizabeth had suspected the plans to be thus, as she had been to London with Jane many times and never once witnessed a militia regiment as large as the one commanded by Colonel Forster paraded through the streets down Piccadilly through Cheapside. Her youngest sister, however, being far less traveled, had counted mightily on the diversion to include shopping at the most fashionable shops. Thus her mood would not recover.

"I know when you and your sister return home in a few months time, surely you could stop in London and visit your aunt and uncle." Mrs. Harriet Forster tried to cheer up her friend, but Lydia continued to sniff and cry at varying intervals as she allowed herself to dwell in the disappointment.

"But it shall be too late! My whole plan was to arrive in Brighton with all the other ladies fawning over my latest bonnet or new spencer," Lydia said indignantly, and Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at Mrs. Forster. Closer in age to herself, Elizabeth failed to understand why Mrs. Forster found such a friend in Lydia. The two women shared easy ways at a card table, and both loved theatrics and parlor games, but their maturity levels could not be further from one another.

"Instead of finding sadness for something you were never promised, find joy in what the Lord has provided," Elizabeth advised and Lydia stuck her tongue out.

"You sound like Mary," she said.

Elizabeth shrugged, and pulled out the only book she had found in her father's library that talked of Brighton at all. Unfortunately, the tome kept referring to the town by its older name, _Brighthelmstone_. "Suit yourself. I am contented that I shall have more pin money to peruse the shops of Brighton since we did not stop in London."

Lydia ceased her sniffling as she was intrigued that her sister could say such a thing. After all, how could the offerings of Brighton compare to those of London? But Elizabeth explained further.

"We live just thirty miles of good road at any other time, it is no difficulty to visit our aunt and uncle, as Mrs. Forster pointed out. But Brighton? I believe this might be the only time in my life that I may have the opportunity to visit the shore."

Elizabeth began to read as her words registered for Lydia a new outlook on their predicament. She sat up straighter in the carriage that was moving barely a few miles per hour.

"So what we find and purchase in Brighton shall be exotic! Mary King and the Long sisters won't be able to find the same fabric and steal my designs!" Lydia laughed triumphantly and earnestly asked Mrs. Forster if she had any intelligence as to the diversions they should find in the seaside town.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as that particular conversational exchange had passed no less than half a dozen times since they left Hertfordshire. Mrs. Forster recounted every last detail she had from the letters of Penelope and Harriet Harrington, two sisters who were the daughters of the Major General of Preston barracks. Elizabeth could practically recite the letters from the Harringtons word for word, and giggled to herself when she thought of doing such a thing in her next letter to Jane, if for no other reason than as a mental exercise.

Unfortunately, the book she had selected from her father's library was very dryly written, by a man who suffered mostly from some ailment or another. In every chapter he extolled the restorative powers of a Dr. Russell and his insistence on sea-bathing and drinking seawater as a panacea for all conditions.

"Do you think we shall be allowed to go sea-bathing?" Elizabeth asked, interrupting the topic of diversions with one she was most interested in.

"Oh, not me, the waves positively frighten me!" Mrs. Forster said, and Elizabeth remembered that Harriet Forster hailed from northern England where storms whipping along the coast dashed against the rocky cliffs.

"I believe the seas to be much calmer in Brighton. The ports along the coast there imply the existence of many a safe harbor," Elizabeth turned her book sideways on a page of a crude map of the coastline. She offered the book to her companions, but only Mrs. Forster took a closer look.

"Why would you wish to go sea-bathing, Lizzy? I suspect it is rather unpleasant and shall make you reek like a fishmonger!"

Elizabeth smirked at her sister's scolding, but hinted that her book prescribed seawater for a clearer complexion, and suddenly Lydia became quite interested in the prospect. So long as she had someone to go with her, Elizabeth felt content.

A change in the caravan they travelled in slowed their carriage to practically a standstill, and suddenly lines of soldiers trooped past them on either side. Lydia squealed in delight at the change of environment outside the window. Elizabeth began to breathe uneasily as the coach felt far too confining, and her mind considered the outcomes of the two lines of men on either side of the carriage upsetting the vehicle. Her heart reminded her such an outcome was unlikely, and the circumstances would pass.

"Lizzy! We could walk! Oh, let's do so! Let's leave the carriage and walk with the men. Look, those ladies are doing so!" Lydia exclaimed as she pointed to three women on her side flirting and walking with the regiment.

Mrs. Forster's face paled, and Elizabeth grabbed Lydia's arm that had moved to the door handle.

"Lydia, stop!" she cried, as Lydia instinctively fought back against Elizabeth's grasp.

"We're barely moving, I shan't get hurt leaping down. Only for a spell!" Lydia argued as the sisters' hands were a flurry of slaps and scratches against each other. Mrs. Forster cried out at such a display, and Elizabeth had to yell over her.

"Those women are NOT LADIES!" she yelled so loudly, her voice carried through the glass window into earshot of the closest men marching alongside the carriage. They involuntarily looked to their right, directly to the window, before resuming the call of attention to the front. Thankfully, they passed by, and Elizabeth breathed more easily. Her shouting also made Lydia stop her childish antics.

"What do you mean? We walked all the time back home! So they cannot afford a carriage . . . " Lydia began to scold her sister for being so superior, but it was Mrs. Forster who explained.

"My friend, I'm afraid my invitation was cruel. There are parts of the world of being a virtuous soldier's wife that you must overlook, though I had much the same reaction as you when I first married my Colonel," Mrs. Forster confessed. "There are women who travel with the men to provide them . . .relations. . . that should certainly only happen within the confines of a marriage."

"So they are married to those men they walk with," Lydia misunderstood, and Elizabeth shook her head.

"No, they are fallen," she said cold in tone.

Lydia huffed as the carriage began to move again, not fully understanding the explanation, but no longer wishing to appear ignorant. The pace of the vehicles now outstripped the marching pace of the regiment, and they were back to vistas of countryside within a quarter-hour.

After Elizabeth again returned to her book, Lydia whined about when the next stop would occur, and she wisely left answering her sister to Mrs. Forster. For the night they would rest in Twickenham where they would pick up provisions of gunpowder.

By the time she finished the next chapter, Elizabeth looked up to find Lydia fast asleep with her head against the doorframe and Mrs. Forster knitting. The two women exchanged a nod of relief and returned to their solitary activities.

The slow moving carriage and lack of interest in her book soon lulled Elizabeth to sleep as well, even though usually when she travelled, it was her greatest wish to enjoy the company of the carriage and see the sights. For this trip, however, she only found peace avoiding both.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: My autumn stunk. My kid got sick, I got sick, and I mean I've been sick for nearly a month! She's having her tonsils out in February, and I'm finally back to writing :) My ex is still a jerk, total Mr. Wickham, but he's agreed to see our daughter for Christmas for 9 days that I'm turning into a writing retreat holiday... at home :) I shall stock my house with lots of chocolate and wine :)  
\- Elizabeth Ann West

****

"In the future, I would prefer you to run invitations by me before you send them out," Mr. Darcy said, quite formally, as he waited in drawing room for their guests. After complimenting his sister for her attire, he made his position known with hopes it would not cause a disagreement.

"But, Mr. Bingley is your closest friend!" Georgiana exclaimed, and her brother sniffed. She turned away to hide her mischievous smile.

Since their cousin Richard had written from Brighton, cancelling the plans for them to all enjoy the seaside together, admittedly a lack of diversion had plagued the youngest member of the Darcy family. However, she recalled the great mystery of her brother's disappointment. And Mr. Bingley, and his sisters, had been present for at least part of the time her brother was in the company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"So long as you do not possess any notions of meddling into my affairs," he cautioned and Georgiana's shoulders tensed. Twisting his mouth in frustration, Darcy inhaled deeply and then exhaled through his nose. His sister's reaction confirmed his worst fear, that she was on a mission to interrogate the Bingleys about Miss Elizabeth, and it was too late to call off the dinner.

"I do not know what you are insinuating. I have given my word that I would not meddle, and I intend to stand by that word."

"That is all I ask—"

"But I have not asked Miss Bingley at all about her time in Hertfordshire, what was the house name again, Netherfield Reach?"

"Georgiana!"

The butler opened the doors to the drawing room and announced the arrival of the Bingleys. In a perfect performance, Georgiana rose from her place in the Queen Anne-style chair to stand in front of her brother. As Miss Bingley entered slightly ahead of her brother, she contributed to the charade of great felicity between the two sisters of the two gentlemen friends.

"Miss Darcy! How well you look this evening! Is that a new frock?" Caroline Bingley effused over the trim and cut of Georgiana's gown, while her brother slowly approached his friend he had not seen in a few months.

"Darcy," Bingley greeted his friend, then fidgeted nervously when Mr. Darcy stood unmoved. Instead of reaching out his hand, Darcy glared at the back of his sister's head.

Without looking at Bingley, Darcy apologized. "I am sorry I did not send an invitation earlier. I was in Kent."

"Yes, your aunt, I remember. It was dash dull without you in town, I must say,"

"Charles!" Miss Bingley scolded her brother, proving she was listening carefully to their conversation as she attended to Georgiana's queries.

"Well, it was dull, Caroline. You dragged me to every ball and dinner held in all of Mayfair, I do believe."

Caroline pursed her lips at her brother and spoke conspiratorially to Georgiana. "He complains now, but he was happy every evening. He could not wait to leave that backwater country house that I told him was a terrible idea, and now he pretends I have abused him!"

Georgiana's spirits rose as Miss Bingley provided the perfect opportunity for an opening question, but she only managed to squawk a vowel sound before her brother grasped her elbow and led her away.

"I believe dinner is ready, if we head into the dining room."

Georgiana said nothing so as to not spoil a future opportunity to hear more about Hertfordshire and to her dismay, the seating cards she had place were rearranged. Instead of her brother's normal request to seat her across from Mr. Bingley, with Miss Bingley on her left and her brother on her right at the head of the table, she was to sit next to Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley nearly squealed in delight at the new seating arrangement as she took it to be a sign of Mr. Darcy showing her particular favor by finally moving her to his right hand side.

The footman had to hurry to pull the chair out for Miss Bingley as she eagerly walked to her chair, while Miss Darcy felt her hopes of learning more about her brother's romance dwindling.

"Miss Darcy?" Mr. Bingley pulled out the chair for Georgiana, to the approving nod from his sister.

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley," Georgiana managed before Caroline Bingley dived into a monologue about the many dinner parties and balls she and her brother had frequented. She only took a break from her descriptions and mild gossip about men and women Georgiana could not keep straight if her life depended upon it when she took a sip of wine.

"The Hursts threw a very well-received dinner, and the guests included a number of members of Parliament, on account of Mr. Hurst's brother. Lady Sophia, Lord Westholme's daughter, came as well. It is said she only accepts invitations that Mr. Quin accepts, but I cannot see how that rumor is true. The Quins are moving up, Sir Quin is very popular according to Mr. Hurst, but well—," Caroline paused for dramatic effect before she continued, scarcely touching any food on her plate from the first course.

Georgiana offered her guest an obligatory sign of interest. "Is there an objection against Mr. Quin?" she asked, trying to understand the various subtle indications of courtship and romantic interest Miss Bingley seemed to be an expert in discerning.

"He's Irish," she said, finally taking a bite of her dinner. "Lady Sophia spent most of the evening engaged almost exclusively with my brother," Caroline crudely pointed with her fork, before again eating instead of monopolizing the conversation.

Both Darcys turned their attention to Mr. Bingley, as though they expected a confession or verdict about Lady Sophia, but Mr. Bingley turned a deep shade of red in embarrassment.

"I did not seek to raise her hopes. She just bore a remarkable resemblance to Miss Bennet, and so I . . . " he trailed off as he did not know how to further explain himself. Caroline glared at him while Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. But Georgiana would not allow another opportunity to pass.

"Miss Bennet? Is she another acquaintance of yours in London?" Georgiana asked, looking between the Bingley siblings in hopes of an answer. Miss Bingley frowned, and Mr. Bingley chuckled.

"Oh, no, not here in London. I met her last autumn in Hertfordshire, when your brother was with me to visit Netherfield Park," Mr. Bingley stared off into the distance behind his sister's head, reminiscing on memories he was not sharing with the rest of the table.

Before Georgiana could voice another question, her brother usurped her.

"Bingley, I am glad Georgiana invited you and your sister this evening as I had been meaning to speak with you," he paused, earning a glare from his sister.

Mr. Darcy had just scolded Georgiana for this very invitation, and now claimed happiness for the circumstances? But Georgiana was far too well-bred to insult her brother in front of company, unlike Miss Bingley.

"While I was in Kent, I happened to see Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said, allowing his confession to end there for a moment.

Charles Bingley ceased his daydreaming and turned his head towards his friend. Miss Bingley froze.

"And? How was she? Did she speak at all about her sister?" Mr. Bingley asked, getting right to the point that he cared most about.

"I'm sure Miss Eliza was well, after all she was traveling. Or does she live there now? There was some rumor that cousin of hers who is to inherit Longbourn had made her an offer of marriage," Miss Bingley speculated, and Mr. Darcy now stared intently at Miss Bingley, for he held no knowledge of any offer for Elizabeth's hand than his.

"Mr. Collins is married to Mrs. Collins, a childhood friend of Miss Elizabeth. She was there to visit the young woman we all knew as Miss Lucas," Mr. Darcy explained.

"Oh the Lucases! Sir William had the best stories!" Mr. Bingley said, mostly to Georgiana. As she giggled and expressed how she wished she had heard them, Mr. Bingley suddenly had an inspired thought. "I still hold the lease until Michaelmas. Why don't we go back to Hertfordshire before abusing your hospitality, Darcy? Perhaps Miss Darcy would like to go as well?"

"Please, Brother! I should dearly love to go to Netherfield Park since we cannot go to Brighton," Georgiana eagerly pounced on the opportunity while her brother sat in shock at the proposition and Miss Bingley began to complain.

"Not there again, Charles! The company was positively dreadful. And we should have to move again."

"But you were already planning to move once more, weren't you coming to Pemberley?" Miss Darcy asked, innocently, but earning a sour look from Miss Bingley. "I am sorry perhaps your first time was not very pleasant, but I should be there with my brother," Miss Darcy looked to Fitzwilliam, and smiled. "And please correct my geography if I am mistaken, but Hertfordshire is north of here and on the way to Pemberley, is it not?"

"Quite right, Miss Darcy! I shall write to the staff tomorrow and ask them to open the house back up! We should leave in two days' time." Mr. Bingley jumped to making firm plans as though a decision had been reached.

"Mr. Darcy, you cannot also be in favor of this plan . . ." Miss Bingley reached out to grasp his forearm that leaned against the table, as he was still holding his knife and fork utterly stunned at the parallels in this conversation as the last dinner with Richard. Broken from his thoughts, he looked down at Miss Bingley's intrusion to his person, and she laughed nervously as she released him.

Mr. Darcy carefully placed his silverware down as Mr. Bingley and his sister talked animatedly about Hertfordshire. Charles had already managed to bring up Miss Bennet, Elizabeth's sister, multiple times, and the pangs of guilt twisted Mr. Darcy's insides.

"And you should enjoy Miss Bennet's company as well, I daresay. Some of her younger sisters that are near your age are more spirited, but not Miss Bennet. She is calm and serene and holds such goodwill for those around her, you cannot help but feel more at ease when she is near," Mr. Bingley shared, with the energy of a man still in love.

Mr. Darcy had a decision to make. It might be too late for him and Miss Elizabeth, and part of him dreaded the possibility of seeing her again. But perhaps in going back to Netherfield Park, he could right a wrong that she had rightly laid at his feet, that he had separated Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley. His desire was to stop the discussion immediately and refuse another trip to the small estate near Meryton, but again Miss Elizabeth's words echoed in his mind and heart. She had called him selfish and arrogant. He knew she was wrong about his character, but he had yet to show her any error to her judgment.

Ultimately, he hoped that in agreeing to go to Netherfield Park, reuniting Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet, but meddling no further, would prove to Miss Elizabeth he was a man who could face her harshest criticism. He might never win her affection. All he hoped was such an overture improved her opinion of him, and did not further diminish his stock.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Bingley stopped in a tale about the ball and Georgiana immediately turned around to look at her brother.

"It is a shame we could not go to Brighton, where my cousin is on a temporary assignment. But we can visit Netherfield Park one last time before your lease ends, Bingley, and note the features and designs about the estate you prefer. Then, in Derbyshire as you search for an estate there, we can find one with similar offerings," Mr. Darcy reasoned, making it appear that revisiting Netherfield Park had nothing to do with seeing the Bennet sisters one last time.

Darcy drained his wine glass while two at the table rejoiced in the decision made. Miss Bingley sulked in a manner that made her face very unbecoming. And Mr. Darcy could not help that his heart rejoiced at the idea of again seeing a pair of very fine eyes across from him at a dinner, or perhaps another assembly.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Enter Le Scoundrel! (and yes, I think of my ex completely as a Lt. Wickham. He's Lt. West. It works. And it doesn't ruin the book boyfriend I've always loved after Mr. Darcy... mmmmm Colonel Fitzwilliam ;-). Enjoy - Elizabeth Ann West

Elizabeth Bennet welcomed dawn cringing slightly to the musty, humid smell filling the air. The regiment had camped down for the night in a swarmy place the soldiers called Muddleswood. When the carriage stopped so close to Brighton, even Elizabeth felt confused as Lydia loudly complained about another camp night, instead of resting in a town with an inn. Mrs. Forster explained they would stop outside the ancient village of Hassock the night before so that they did not arrive in the dark to the barracks. While Elizabeth understood the logistics of the army were paramount, her younger sister found it difficult to recall her pleasure was not the priority of the trip.

"Lydia." Elizabeth called her sister's name to the sleeping form in the folding camp bed across from her. But there was no response.

"Lydia!" Elizabeth flung her small pillow over at her sister's head where it bounced off, but tugged slightly at her rolled hair pinned to her head.

"Mmm, no," Lydia groaned, and Elizabeth released an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, we have to get up. I hear people outside," she explained, as she rose, saw to her meager toilette and donned the last sensible gown from her trunk for the day's travels.

Pulling her shawl around herself as she stepped out of the tent, dressed for the day, Elizabeth watched with fascination as the many men and women in the caravan readied wagons and horses all around her. The morning's mist made the whole operation eery, and she shivered with a chill looking up at the cloudy sky stubbornly hiding the sun.

The proper army and shadow army, as she had come to call in her mind the various men and women who traveled seamlessly with the soldiers, created a noisy orchestra of chaos. Elizabeth understood many wives travelled even abroad with their husbands, stopping only a town or two away from battlefields, from the times she had studied wars with her father in his study.

With such a ruckus for any kind of troop movement, it suddenly made more sense how grand armies marched within mere miles of each other, knowing well the other's location. And yet, they would wait for dawn and meet on a battlefield in the middle, rarely using the element of surprise to turn the tide. She had not been much older than Lydia when she and Mr. Bennet read the accounts of England's greatest battles. Her father had attempted to explain the military's shared sense of honor. Seeing with her own eyes the immediate community and kinmanship knitted together in a caravan of traveling regiments, a small inkling of the concept her father had tried to teach her so long ago took hold. Camp was home; and it was very much in poor taste to ransack someone's home like a thief in the night!

"Lizzie-" Lydia said sleepily, as she stumbled out of the tent the two sisters had shared with the Forsters. The Colonel had long left his camp bed to order the troop movements and oversee breaking camp. Mrs. Forster had left shortly after to see to the needs and assignments for the other officer wives traveling with them. "La! Everyone is always so busy!" Lydia remarked as she stretched and looked around her.

Elizabeth clucked her tongue and tucked her shawl securely under her arms as she reached up to button the last fastening on the back of Lydia's gown that she had missed.

"Would you go fetch your Spencer? You are not decent to be out," Elizabeth scolded, as her sister was not in her dressing gown, thankfully. But choosing a white frock for the day, the translucent fabric covering her decolletage looked improper in the meager dawnlight.

"You don't have a Spencer," she countered.

Elizabeth lifted her shawl to reveal a plain earth brown frock made of solid calico. "Then put on your walking gown and put the silk away. Honestly, Lydia, we still have the dust of the road to contend with, at least ten more miles! Do you wish to ruin such a lovely gown?"

"But I wanted to arrive looking my best!" she whined, but re-entered the tent with a low grumble.

Mrs. Forster returned with her friend, Mrs. Warrender, married to a Lieutenant-Colonel in the regiment that had ridden out to meet Forster's own battalion. To Elizabeth's dread, two lieutenants in Colonel Forster's regiment accompanied them: Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny.

"Miss Bennet, has Miss Lydia awakened?" she asked, brightly, and Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes, and our trunks are packed. We are ready to depart. I am eager to reach our lodgings at the Preston Barracks," Elizabeth explained, and Mrs. Warrender shook her head and giggled.

"Right-o, fetch the trunks, gentlemen, if you would," the woman ordered and Elizabeth stepped directly in their way.

"A moment if you please, my sister is still readying herself in our tent," Elizabeth explained, disliking the smirks both officers couldn't hide at such intelligence.

"Silly me, I forgot there are two of you. And you shall not stay in the barracks, my dear. I couldn't possibly allow those dreadful arrangements to stand when I heard Mrs. Forster was bringing her friend from Hertfordshire! The old colonel will have to make use of his horse," the woman paused to share a knowing look with her friend. "But I said for my friend Harriet, only the best! The Forsters must be next to the Warrenders and Harringtons, right on Kings Road!" Mrs. Warrender said, and Elizabeth slowly nodded to be polite, but she had no idea what this new woman was saying.

"Forgive me, this is Mrs. Maryann Warrender, who brought her carriage from Brighton just to catch me this morning." Mrs. Forster made the hasty introduction. "But it is true, she conspired with Penelope and Harriet, and now we are staying seaside! It's such a great honor!"

"Nonsense! The terror is how long you poor dears have been traveling!"

"There's our luck, Wickham," Denny teased his friend, earning a curious look from the two married women present.

"Your luck, sir?" Mrs. Warrender asked.

Denny blushed. "Only that Miss Bennet and Miss Lydia were bright spirits at many dinners and dances in Meryton. If they will be so far as the seaside, I fear we shall not see them as often."

Elizabeth frowned as she had no inclination to see Mr. Wickham at all, and if Mr. Denny were part and parcel to the presence of the former, she had not a care to see him, either. But to the two married women, such flirtatious words were a happy circumstance.

Elizabeth watched as Mrs. Warrender reassured both gentlemen that there would be plenty of diversions for their unit on King's Road after their training as as Lydia finally reemerged from the tent.

"There! Are you satisfied now-" she stopped fussing at her sister when she noticed the new company and immediately changed her tone to a conciliatory one. "Good morning, Lieutenant Wickham," she said, batting her eyelashes and giggling. When he tilted his head to his new ally, Mrs. Warrender, Lydia turned her attention to the new friend of Mrs. Forster's. "I'm Miss Lydia Bennet," she said, dropping to a slight curtsy.

"Mrs. Maryann Warrender, at your service," the stranger introduced herself to more giggles, this time from Lydia and Mrs. Forster, but returned the head nod.

"Indeed, Mrs. Warrender has seen that we are moved to Kings Road, directly seaside in our lodgings," Elizabeth explained to her tardy sister, suddenly recalling the map she had studied in her book. "Shall we be close to the Old Steine Gardens?" she asked.

Mrs. Warrender leaned in conspiratorially after dispatching the lieutenants to their duty. "Just two blocks away. And Mrs. Fitzhurbert is in residence this summer at Steine House. We shall have so many glorious diversions," she said, clapping her hands to applaud their small triumph, drowned out as a small group of soldiers in full uniform trampled by in a double-march to meet their brothers in arms. The ground around them was quickly losing it's sturdiness as the dew and many feet turned the main through-fare of camp in a sludgy, muddy mess.

"Lydia,perhaps you should put on your boots," Elizabeth remarked, as Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny re-emerged from the tent, a trunk each on their backs. "Wouldn't a private or footman be more appropriate?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly struck by the odd efforts of officers to carry ladies' trunks.

"And trust a lowly private or footman with Miss Lydia's personal belongings? You must be more careful, Miss Bennet, an army camp is no place to risk one's favorite items to hands that would lessen your load with no remorse," Mr. Wickham explained, to the approval of Mrs. Warrender and Mrs. Forster.

"Come, we shall have your things added to my carriage and be off," she said to Mrs. Forster. "We can allow the sisters space to ride just the two of them in your carriage, and get home in plenty of time to rest and ready ourselves for tonight." Mrs. Warrender issued orders like the practiced officer wife she was.

"Why? What is tonight?" Lydia asked, trying to keep up with the conversation, but understanding the development to be a good one. Ignoring her sister was only a mild positive addition. "And who is Mrs. Fitzhurbert? I shall be glad to make her acquaintance," she said, off-handedly.

Mrs. Warrender suddenly stopped in her movement to call over the young private assigned to the Colonel's family as a sort of footman.

"My dear, one does not make acquaintances with Mrs. Fitzhurbert," Mrs. Warrender started, bewildered that Lydia knew nothing of the current politics of the Crown.

"I shall explain this matter to my sister in the carriage. But you mentioned an engagement for this evening? After all of our travel, we can't be expected-" Elizabeth was cut off by Mrs. Forster gently placing a hand upon Elizabeth's arm, before her friend Mrs. Warrender could feel further offense.

"Oh, we shall arrive with plenty of time to rest. But it is tradition for a large fete the night a new regiment arrives. There will be a dinner and dancing at the Old Ship Inn in the assembly rooms." Mrs. Forster received a well-earned nod of respect from Mrs. Warrender. Even though Mrs. Forster's husband outranked Mrs. Warrender's husband, the later held more years as an army officer rank and had taken Mrs. Forster under her tutelage. The two Bennet sisters were ushered to the waiting carriages.

As Elizabeth boarded the carriage she had previously ridden in with Mrs. Forster and Lydia, at the last minute, Lydia pulled a stunt.

"Lizzie, why don't you ride alone and rest and I shall ride with Mrs. Forster and Mrs. Warrender," she said, to the amiable responses of the two officer wives.

Elizbeth felt uneasy, as they had not even stepped foot into Brighton proper, and Lydia was already pushing to separate. As though she sensed the protectiveness of an elder sister, Mrs. Forster reached out for Elizbeth's hand and squeezed it.

"She shall be fine, with me. And your carriage will be directly behind us."

Trusting Mrs. Forster, Elizabeth agreed and felt slightly happy to ride alone for the last leg of the journey. She could read and rest in peace. Plus she would be spared what she imagined would be a very irritating show of antics by her sister to impress the new and interesting Mrs. Warrender.

For the first time since she had agreed to come and protect Lydia, Elizabeth slightly regretted her decision and felt homesick. She also wondered what their sister Jane was doing, and so she resolved to think about a letter to her elder sister as soon as they arrived in Brighton. From the way Mrs. Warrender took charge, it felt like once they were in Brighton, there would not be a moment's peace to be had!


End file.
